


The World Within-Chapter 3

by jeweldancer



Series: The World Within [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesia, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, F/M, Fear of being attacked, Food, M/M, Psychological Trauma, migraine headaches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeweldancer/pseuds/jeweldancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has decided that his existence is worth fighting for. He manages to expel Lucifer, but the resulting mental trauma induces amnesia. Cas remembers nothing of his life, or of the Winchesters, but he senses that something very important is missing.</p><p>Dean knows he has royally screwed up. If he'd just let Cas know how much he meant to them--to him--then maybe he wouldn't have sacrificed himself. Now Cas is missing, and Dean is desperate to find him and try to repair what may be the best thing he's ever had.</p><p>Sam is tired--of loneliness, constant loss, physical and psychological pain. He says nothing, because Dean needs him right now, but he doesn't know how much more he can take.</p><p>The woman who finds Cas turns out to be unexpectedly important to all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Within-Chapter 3

(Gwen)

I ended up taking him with me, damn his tear-filled blue eyes. I couldn't have slept a wink if I'd left him there. I could only hope that my gut instinct about him was right, and I didn't end up murdered in my sleep. 

"Are these the only clothes you have?"

He looked bewildered.

"Right. You wouldn't know. Well, you can't sleep in wet clothes. We'll stop at the Walgreen's up here." 

I picked out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and handed him a package of socks. "All right, man. You gotta choose your own underwear."

He studied the shelves. "I don't know which kind to get."

"Don't think about it. Just grab one. Whatever looks right to ya." I turned away. I didn't really want to see what he picked. This whole situation was weird enough without knowing what underwear he was wearing. "One more thing, and we'll be done." I picked up a toothbrush/mini toothpaste travel kit and dropped it in the basket. Everything else could wait til tomorrow.

"I don't think I have any money." He searched his coat and pants pockets.

"Any wallet or I.D., by chance?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"Nah, don't worry about it."

He insisted on carrying the bags the rest of the way home. We took the elevator up to the third floor; I didn't think he'd make it up the steps. I unlocked the apartment door and waved him in ahead of me. He looked around, eyes wide, as if he'd suddenly walked into the Parthenon.

"This is a very nice home."

"It's too small, but I guess it's better than a park bench, huh?"

No response to that. He was running his hand up and down the arm of the couch, feeling the softness. 

"It's really weirding me out that I don't know your name."

"I don't know your name, either."

"Oh. Geez, I'm sorry. You can call me Gwen."

The blue eyes studied me carefully, then lit up. "The queen of Camelot."

I frowned at him. "How the hell did you know that?" Guinevere was my real first name, embarrassingly enough. 

He stared back at me. "Is that wrong? You're not her, you know."

"No shit, man. She wasn't real." He probably saw my name on my credit card when I paid for the stuff at Walgreen's. No big deal. "Anyway, you should probably take a shower and change while I make dinner. Are you hungry?"

"Yes?" 

"What, you don't know if you're hungry or not?"

"I...I don't want to trouble you."

"Well, I gotta eat too, so I may as well make enough for you. Fair warning, though, I'm not much of a cook. So don't expect a lot."

"You've already been very kind. I'll appreciate whatever you prepare."

"I hope you still think that after you taste it. The bathroom's right here. Hey, um, you...I mean, you remember how to shower and everything, right?"

His lips quirked slightly, the first sign of a sense of humor I'd seen out of him. "I think I can manage."

"Cool. All right. Take your time. I didn't think to get you any shampoo, but there's stuff in there you can use. Unless you're one of those guys who won't use girl shampoo, in which case you're on your own."

"I wasn't aware that shampoo was gendered."

"Right on, man. I'm starting to like you." I rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find something acceptable to serve to a guest. When I got off work late, I usually just ate cereal and went to bed. 

I came up with a box of bowtie pasta and a jar of Ragu. Well, that would have to do. Hopefully the mystery dude didn't mind eating like a college student. I heard the shower running in the other room as I took a peek in the freezer. I had bought a pound of frozen hamburger meat a couple of weeks ago. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I could add some spices...

When the guy emerged from the shower, the meat sauce was simmering and I had just put a pot of water on to boil. I had also found a can of Pillsbury crescent rolls, so things were looking up. He peeked around the corner, as if unsure that he'd be welcome in the kitchen.

"Come on in, man. Pull up a chair." The sweatpants were slightly large on him, but the t-shirt was well-fitted. The guy was pretty ripped, actually. You couldn't tell that through the trench coat. His hair was damp and sticking out in every possible direction, and he smelled like coconut shampoo.

"Is there any way I can help?'

"You can get the crescent rolls ready. I've already preheated the oven." I passed him the can, and he studied the instructions carefully. He startled when the can popped open, then looked embarrassed. "It's okay, man. I used to be afraid of those cans when I was a kid." 

He unrolled the dough and shaped the rolls slowly. I started to tell him he didn't have to be so careful, but I figured the last thing he needed right now was criticism. It would get done soon enough. He hovered by the oven window, watching their progress. 

"I don't understand how all those rolls fit in such a small can."

"It's the miracle of baking powder." He made a soft noise. "Was that a laugh?"

"Yes. It was. Can I try one of the rolls?"

He scarfed down four of them before I even got the pasta on the table. "Slow down. You're gonna spoil your dinner."

"I don't think it is spoiled. The food smells fine."

"Smart ass. I meant you'll be full."

He suddenly put down the roll he was eating. "Cas."

"No, I called you an ass."

"No, no. Cas. That's familiar. It means something."

"What's a Cas?"

"I think it's me."

We were both silent for several seconds. "Well, that makes things easier. Now we know what to call you." I pulled out his chair. "Here, sit."

I served up the pasta, and Cas finished his bowl before I'd eaten half of mine. "This is delicious," he slurred through a mouthful of food.

"You must not have eaten anything in a while. It's nothing special. I've never been a good cook."

He swallowed and stared at me. "Please don't put yourself down like that. You seem to be a very good person. Most people would not have helped me like you have."

"Well. What do you think Cas is short for? Casper?" I giggled and started singing. "Casper, the friendly ghost..."

"I don't think most ghosts are friendly, Gwen."

"I've never met one, so I wouldn't know. Do you want seconds?"

"You're very lucky, then. Yes, I'll take some more, if you don't mind."

"It'll go to waste if you don't. No way I can eat this much before it goes bad." I took my plate and glass to the sink to wash.

"Please, Gwen. Leave the dishes for me. It's the least I can do."

"Well, okay. I'll find some sheets and make up the sofa bed while you do them."

I managed the sheets and blankets fine, but I was running out of steam. The ibuprofen I'd taken as I left work was wearing off, and my head was pounding. I sank down in the chair next to the sofa bed and rubbed my temples gingerly. 

"Gwen? Are you all right?"

"Oh! You scared me, Cas. I've just got a bad headache, is all."

Cas approached me, holding out his hand, and I shied away from the sudden gesture. 

"You're afraid of me." He sounded surprised.

"I'm afraid of everything, man. It's called generalized anxiety disorder."

He tilted his head to the side and stared at me. "But you're afraid of me, in particular."

"Well, yes, sort of. I don't know you. I don't know what you might do." A few of the things that he might decide to do ran through my mind. 

As if I'd spoken them aloud, Cas recoiled. "That's terrible. Do people do that to each other?"

"Yes, people most definitely do that to each other." I decided to put off worrying about his apparent mind-reading skills until tomorrow.

He knelt in front of my chair, his face earnest. "I will not do those things to you, Gwen. I do not know how good of a person I am, but I will not harm you. In fact, I can help." He extended his hand again, and this time I did not move.

He reached up and lightly brushed his hand over my forehead. The pain pulsated and then lessened, bit by bit, like ice melting in the sun. I could not pinpoint the exact moment when the headache was gone. I should have been scared, but I was left with a warm, happy feeling.

"How did you do that?" I whispered. 

"I don't know. Did it help?"

"Are you serious? I feel ten times better. That was incredible." 

He sat back on the floor and looked completely at ease for the first time. "I am very glad I was able to repay you in some way, although I know it is not enough." 

"Seriously, Cas. Those headaches hurt like a bitch. Thank you." 

He started to reply, but yawned instead. "M'sorry. I've been awake for a long time."

"No problem, man. Let's get you in bed, all right? You must be exhausted."

He was sound asleep about five minutes after he pulled the covers up. I put a bottle of water on the coffee table in case he woke up thirsty and confused, and brushed my teeth. With my headache gone, I might be able to get a good night's sleep. I shut my bedroom door and locked it, and fell into bed.

**Author's Note:**

> So in this story, Cas is not at full angelic power. He needs to eat and sleep, but he can still do some angel things which he deems important, such as healing Gwen. 
> 
> Also, please do not invite strange people you find in the park home with you. They will not be angelic beings; they will more likely be serial killers. My theory for this story is that Gwen can sense Cas's angelic tendencies and knows he is not dangerous to her.


End file.
